


Hold Me Down (You Are the One)

by besitos



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Eating Disorders, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mild Language, Model Wen Junhui, Romance Novelist Wonwoo, Romantic Comedy, Self-Esteem Issues, at least... an attempt at romcom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-01-25 16:54:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18578650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/besitos/pseuds/besitos
Summary: Amongst all the romance tropes Wonwoo has branded in his memory from all his years and experience as a famous novelist, he never expected to add this one in particular—his.





	Hold Me Down (You Are the One)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by  
> ↳Years&Years: Ready For You 
> 
> and !! in the case you would like to know what other songs i listened to (religiously) during this particular writing process, here they are:  
> ❥ león larregui—brillas  
> ❥ vance joy—mess is mine  
> ❥ hunny—televised  
> ❥ selena—i could fall in love 
> 
> oh, and also: i'm not the most knowledgable on how publishing houses/agents/authors/models/the modeling industry work, but i really did try !! if there are any Big Inaccuracies that are just. unbearable to read, please (please, please) let me know !! anyways, i had so much fun writing this, and i hope you can tell :) enjoy x

Love, Wonwoo knew, was a feeling that could be described in a variety of different ways. The smell of his grandmother’s freshly made banana bread being the first thing to greet him when he opened the front door after a long day of school. The swelling a mother felt in her chest when she heard the first cries of her newborn baby. The whispered promises of forever being exchanged by lovers underneath the covers, wrapped in each others’ warmth as rain poured outside. The giddiness a child felt on their birthday, surrounded by warm voices and smiling faces.

As a romance novelist, he was all too familiar with the stereotypical romance tropes: childhood friends to lovers, an arranged marriage with a handsome CEO, a secret crush on the best friend’s brother, falling for the hired bodyguard—Wonwoo’s personal list of them was getting dangerously long (at least, in the eyes of his friends), but the swoon-worthy love stories in his novels were his trademark, and what had allowed him to become so successful in the first place.

Never in his wildest dreams had Wonwoo entertained the idea that a love story like the ones he wrote about would manifest in his own life.

・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

> **From:** yurikosantos@penguinrandomhouse.com 
> 
> **To:** jeonwon@gmail.com 
> 
> **Subject:** Urgent, please read.
> 
> Friday, September 9, 4:46 PM (3 days ago)
> 
> Wonwoo, 
> 
> Hello!! I hope this email finds you well, and that you're having an excellent time in Sydney. (Send more pictures, loser).
> 
> It's been a little under a year since you released your last book, and while  _If It's You, I Need No Other_  is still doing extremely well (you've been able to create such a big name for yourself, I will never grow tired of congratulating you, though, it's mostly because of me), I think that this opportunity that you're being considered for would be an excellent way for you to go from 'standard housewife book club author' to 'mr. worldwide'. They're asking if you could help write a script for an advertisement for a new campaign Louis Vuitton is planning for summer next year. They're taking a different approach in promoting this particular collection, and have personally extended an invitation for you (and me, obviously) to join them. I hope you'll consider this greatly. I'll send details once you confirm your interest. 
> 
> Hugs! 
> 
> Yuri

     

 

 

 

> **From:** jeonwon@gmail.com 
> 
> **To:** yurikosantos@penguinrandomhouse.com 
> 
> **Subject:** Re: Urgent, please read. 
> 
> 3:02 AM (1 hour ago)
> 
> K

・ ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・ 

And so, September 22 sees Wonwoo buckled tight into his seat on a plane bound for Paris, France, being pestered with a variety of thought-provoking comments and questions, courtesy of his best friend. 

"Why don't more people put a more conscious effort into recycling?" 

"Is it possible for more than one person to have the same dream on any given night?"

"Do you think people realize how terrible the dairy industry really is?" 

"You know, considering you write so much about love, you're not ever really... in it." 

Wonwoo lets out a heavy sigh and pushes his sleeping mask up so he can shoot said best friend, Seokmin Lee, a look of absolute annoyance. "Seokmin, we're thousands of feet above the air. Don't make me regret bringing you. I will literally fling you off this plane, so help me God." 

"I won't let him!" pipes up Wonwoo's agent, Yuriko Santos, from his right side. "At most, I'll let him lay a punch, or two, on you. I got your back!" 

Seokmin looks slightly uncomfortable as he fidgets in his window seat. "Um, I think I'm going to take a nap." 

"Excellent choice, my friend," Wonwoo replies, as he readjusts the sleeping mask over his eyes. He's not really in the mood to be answering some of Seokmin's oddly philosophical questions when he's being hurled across the Atlantic Ocean in a huge hunk of metal. Flying has always made him antsy, and the only thing that ever really helps is knocking the  _fuck_ out.

However, for the next several minutes—or maybe even hours, he can't really tell when all he can see is darkness—all he can do is think about Seokmin's last statement. Overthink, even. 

Wonwoo would call himself a hopeless romantic in the grand scheme of things—how could he not be when he ended up with this particular profession of his? He's an absolute  _sucker_ for things like candlelit dinners at late hours of the night, phone calls that run until three in the morning, waking up to the sight of a bouquet of flowers on his bedside table, and dancing to no music in the middle of his living room. His top love language, although always changing, rotates between either Receiving Gifts, Quality Time, or Physical Touch. Public proposals always make him teary eyed, and weddings always reduce him to a sobbing mess. The icing on the cake? He has a playlist dedicated solely to songs that remind him of love, of any type, that is slowly inching towards a whopping 50 hours. 

So maybe Seokmin has started a bit of inner turmoil in Wonwoo's brain, but he's sure it's nothing a little sleep can't drive away. 

Right?

 

 

 

 

It's raining in Paris as the plane lands. Wonwoo isn't one to be too superstitious, but he can't help but feel a little uneasy at the fact that such gloomy conditions are what welcome him to this new city. 

"You okay, Wonwoo?" 

He ignores the question, and instead tightens his grip on the straps of his backpack before he makes his way down the center aisle, smiles at the flight attendants as he exits the plane. It isn't until he's off the jet bridge and safe within the physical establishment of the airport that he allows himself to finally relax his tensed muscles. 

"Wonwoo?" 

He turns to Yuriko and takes in her concerned gaze. He feels his heart melt just a little. His agent, underneath all those layers of sarcasm, death glares, and a severe caffeine addiction, is an absolute sweetheart. He considers himself lucky that she came into his life, with a force stronger than any natural disaster known to man. He can endure all her relentless yelling in Japanish—she's born to a Japanese mother and Dominican father—because he knows that he'd be lost without her. They've become close friends over the last four years, though Wonwoo has started to think of her as more of a tolerable, actually useful younger sister. 

"Yeah, I'm okay. You know how I get during flights, especially the lengthier ones." 

Yuriko gives him a reassuring smile, and reaches for his hand to give it a tight squeeze. "You're okay now, yeah?" 

Wonwoo returns the squeeze. "Yeah." 

"That's so hetero," Seokmin interrupts from behind them. Wonwoo turns his head and snorts at the look of mock disgust his friend wears on his face. 

"Seokmin, shut up," Yuriko laughs and lets go of Wonwoo's hand, brings hers up to showcase the stacked engagement ring and wedding band she wears on her fourth finger. "You're forgetting I married the woman of my dreams earlier this year." 

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever," Seokmin says, rolling his eyes. "Anyways. Where are we staying and how far is it? I really just want to sleep." 

"They're sending a chauffeur," Yuriko replies, pulling her phone out of hoodie's pocket. "They said they'd text me once they were here, but we did arrive twenty minutes early." 

"It's fine," Wonwoo speaks up. "We still have to go get our things from baggage claim." 

It takes them a solid fifteen minutes to get to their plane's respective carousel—Seokmin had made an emergency stop at Starbucks and insisted on letting three people go in front of him, because he claimed he "didn't know what he wanted", even though he ended up buying the same thing he always did: a hot chocolate (tall, almond milk, no whip), the big baby—and Wonwoo scrolls through Instagram as they wait for their luggage. He smiles as he sees that his close friend Joshua's daughter was born during his flight, audibly coos at the picture of her wearing one of the headbands he'd brought as one of her gifts to her baby shower. He's momentarily distracted when Yuriko lets out an exaggerated sigh and leans her head against his right shoulder. 

"What's up?" 

"The last international trip I took was for my honeymoon. It's making me miss Stella so bad." 

Wonwoo sticks his left hand out of his pocket so he can pat her head in an attempt to comfort her. "It's only for a week, Yuri. You'll be okay. Besides, she works from home, so it'll be easier for both of you to talk." 

"It's not a week, it's nine days," Yuriko mumbles miserably. 

"Aw, c'mon. Think of it as seven days, then—the first and last day are just for traveling. You'll be back to your love before you know it." 

"I sure hope so." 

Yuriko pulls away once she sees her suitcase, followed closely by the rest of theirs, making its way towards them. Once all their luggage is collected, they bicker over what they want for dinner as they make their way outside the airport, looking for the car that is supposed to be waiting for them already. 

"I see it!" Seokmin exclaims. Wonwoo follows the direction in which his finger is pointing, and feels his eyes widen slightly at the sight of the black car, flashy and something Wonwoo would never in a million years consider for himself. 

"I guess we're pretty important then, huh?" Yuriko looks absolutely ecstatic as she follows after Seokmin. 

Wonwoo lets out a sigh, and hopes some of his two travel partner's enthusiasm rubs off on him  

・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・ 

**_Entry in Jeon Wonwoo's black composition book_**

**_Dated July 19, 2018_ **  

> _i ask myself often what you look like. what your smile will look like when i wake you up with your favorite breakfast in bed, for no other reason than simply the fact that i love you. what your laugh will sound like when i tell you a bad joke while we're in the middle of eating dinner. what you'll feel like when your arms are around me, and you're trying to distract me from the things that make me overthink the most._
> 
> _seokmin met soonyoung on tumblr, in the midst of all his crying over k-pop girl groups and thirsting over what he referred to as the 'daddiest' members of boy groups (he doesn't really do the latter anymore, not only because he has a boyfriend now, but because he understands how serious pedophilia and the sexualization of minors is. a man). he told me about soonie right after they talked for the first time, he said he could tell there was something special about him, but he couldn't really put a finger over what it was exactly. now, it's been nearly five years, and they went from complete strangers to a long distance relationship. what always struck me the most was that seokmin had no clue what soonie looked like until they'd been talking for two months, and even then, they were able to click so effortlessly and become the lovesick pair they are today._
> 
> _i guess i bring this up because i know how undesirable i am. i haven't had a boyfriend since i broke up with trevor almost a year ago, and it's mostly because i now know that people only talk to me out of pity. not out of interest._

・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・ 

The rest of the evening goes by in a blur, because the exhaustion of the trip finally catches up with Wonwoo once he sees his bed at the penthouse apartment they're staying at. The last he hears before his eyes close and he falls into a deep, dreamless sleep is the sound of Yuriko and Seokmin arguing over who gets the master bedroom. 

 

 

 

Wonwoo's morning doesn't go as well as he planned, considering he slept for a total of nearly eleven hours. He sleeps through his alarm, is woken up by a stressed Yuriko, only gets ten minutes to get ready, and spills some coffee on his shirt during the drive over to what he assumes are the Louis Vuitton headquarters. He really isn't able to process anything that is happening around him when he isn't even properly caffeinated. It isn't until he finds himself seated in a large, leather chair facing an expensive looking, middle aged woman who introduces herself as Andrea Moreau, the Corporate Communications Manager, that he realizes that he needs to make a good first impression.

"Your writing style is... unique, to say the least." Her voice lacks what he's come to think of as a French accent when she speaks in English, which, while Wonwoo wouldn't care if she had one, seeing as both of his parents speak English with a fairly thick accent, piques his interest. "You've involved yourself with script writing in the last couple of years, and have demonstrated that your abilities extend well beyond being purely a novelist. The films you've involved yourself with, although being independent, have done extraordinarily well, and that, along with all your success as a writer, was more than enough to catch my attention." 

"Thank you, your words are very kind, Mrs. Moreau."

She laughs, as though Wonwoo has said something very funny. "This is time for me to praise you, not the other way around, Sebastian. And please, I've said it before, call me Andrea." 

Wonwoo is temporarily confused, but then he remembers that he's known globally as Sebastian Jeon, the novelist who goes by his middle name—although most people don't know—because it's easier to pronounce for most of the earth's population, not Wonwoo, the guy who likes to drink his tea with vanilla soy creamer and bakes for his friends whenever they come over. It's very confusing, and when Wonwoo first started, it took a lot of effort to learn to distinguish and separate the two, while he technically is both of them. 

"Anyways," Andrea continues, taking a quick look at her wristwatch, "I invited over one of the two models who's going to be working with us on this project. Also, before we wrap up this meeting, I just wanted to make sure you knew that after today you won't be seeing very much of me, but I will still be taking part in overseeing much of what happens." 

Wonwoo looks over to Yuriko for some type of cue on what to say next, but she's busy writing something down on the notebook in her lap. 

"That sounds great. I'm looking forward to this new experience, and I promise I won't let you down," he says, trying to convey as much sincerity is possible. 

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Andrea replies, but her eyes sparkle with humor. 

There's a knock at her office door, and Wonwoo's head turns towards it on instinct—it must be the model Andrea had been talking about. "Come in," she calls out.

The door opens, and Wonwoo feels his mouth drop when he takes in the person standing there. 

"Sebastian Jeon, I'm sure you've head plenty about him, but meet our treasure, Junhui Wen." 

・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・ 

**_Crumpled sheet of college-ruled paper found inside Jeon Wonwoo's black JanSport backpack_ **

**_Dated March 18, 2017_**  

> _i want you to come into my life with an explosion of color. with the ability to walk into a room and make everything fall to the floor._
> 
> _i want your presence to make me forget about everything that's wrong in the world, and to instead focus on everything about you._  


End file.
